Burlington, IA to Galesburg, IL

Today was somewhat uneventful, especially in comparison to yesterday. We set out from Burlington this morning after a rather good free hotel breakfast. We were not in our usual hurry to be on the road as early as possible, since it was going to be neither hot nor a particularly long day. We headed out from the hotel at about 7:30 and down into the actual downtown area of Burlington. An attraction we'd been told about was Snake Alley, the most winding street in the nation. It's a cobblestone road that connects the upper part of town to the lower, evidently designed by German settlers more than a century ago who remembered the pathways cut into the hillside vineyards back home. We would have pedaled to the top to experience the street and to give the ultimate test to our 10" rear disk brake, but alas, the road was closed to traffic for some reason. We contented ourselves with gazing up and marvelling.

Our mid-morning stop was in a town called Oquawka, IL where we were advised by the convenience store ladies to go into the middle of town to see "where the elephant died." That's all she said. Really. We chose to forego that treat, and regretted it later when Bob Googled it and got the story. Apparently about 40 years ago Norma Jean Elephant, as she was known, was chained to a tree in the center of town awaiting her chance to perform in the circus. A storm approached and her trainer could not get her unchained in time. When the lighting struck, he was blown across the square, but poor Norma was fried. Someone in town suggested that she be buried on the spot. (We suspect this may have been a financial as well as emotional decision - how do you get a dead elephant out of there?) There is a monument and plaque which commemorate Norma Jean's passing. We shall have to forever imagine how moving that experience would have been.

We had a lunch stop in Monmouth, an excellent Chinese buffet. The waitress and the whole family (a nine-year-old ran the register) were very curious about our trip. It was again that amazement that we would choose to do this, since in Asia only those who can't afford a car would ride a bike. Monmouth is a college town with the attendant big beautiful houses with wrap-around porches and shade trees.

About 20 miles later we arrived at Galesburg. Hats off again to the iPhone. We found a Best Western motel, whose rate on Expedia was $67. The desk rate was $98. The desk clerk had no way to give us that rate, so we sat on a comfortable couch in the lobby, made our reservation through Expedia and saved $30! At this point, we had been blown into town on a great tailwind. By the time we reached the motel, the sky had clouded over and we were actually chilly; imagine this after last week's heat. Thought the town boasts a historic district with several interesting restaurants (though overpriced; we Googled their menus) we opted for the hotel restaurant which served astoundingly good food at a reasonable price. Getting back on the bike for the ride back into town just got less and less appealing as the afternoon wore on.

We are in Cubs country; therefore, the Pirates game was on in the bar. We (I) were looking forward to a second glass of wine in the bar to watch the game. The Pirates were leading. The cable went out. Ah, well. The second glass of wine was packaged "to go," and we are ready to head back to the room to check on the cable connection there. Tomorrow's destination: Henry, IL after which we are officially back on the Adventure Cycling Northern Tier Route, and Bob the Navigator will have much less stress in his life. The last few days have been like old times - using a state map and creating our own route. I will testify that he hasn't lost his touch.

Troy to Louisiana to Quincy to Burlington

It's been a couple of days since we were able to update. From Troy we set out with the goal of seeing Hannibal. Our ride from Troy took us through Clarksville, a town which survived the floods of 2008, apparently by the skin of their teeth and a lot of help from volunteers: troops, national guard, etc. We happened upon it for lunch just as they were starting the "Clarksville Lives" festival, featuring free food, music and a sandbag throwing contest. If not for the heat and the promise of some more of Missouri's hill country to conquer, we would have stayed longer. We stayed along the river, high enough to enjoy a bird's eye view. (Read: hard riding). Our goal for that night was Louisian, MO. We had called the River's Edge motel the night before to make sure of a vacancy. We had options for going on, but the heat convinced us that the 40 or so miles that day had been enough. We'd been promised all week by the Weather Channel people that Saturday was to be the last day of heat. Checking into the River's Edge was a motel experience that we wish everyone could have. Our hosts were a wonderful couple from just outside Mumbai, India, originally. When we asked about places to eat that we could walk to, he said, "I will drop you off and pick you up, no problem." The seafood place just across the river in Illinois had been highly recommended, but the long bridge leading there was just two lanes, no shoulder, not walkable and not even very inviting on the bike. "No problem. Get cleaned up, come back and I will take you there." "Can we pay you for that?" Laughter, and then, "NO! No problem." Our host took us across the bridge in his pickup and said, "Just call when you are ready to come back." When we did that and he came back, I assured him that I've stayed at the Waldorf, and you just don't get that kind of service there. Later that evening, I walked over to the office to ask for a teabag for Bob for breakfast, since there was only coffee in the courtesy basket. He said, "How would you like me to make you Indian tea with spices in the morning?" I said I'd let the teabag-lover decide. When Bob went over later, he was persuaded to try the homemade chai, and we had a date for 6:00 a.m. At 6:00 the next day (Sunday) our host enthusiastically served up delicious chai accompanied by biscuits and cookies. Supplemented by the sandwiches we'd purchased at the convenience store across the street the night before, and the lively conversation in which we were sure we'd solved most, if not all, the world's problems, it was one of the most memorable and pleasurable breakfasts we'd ever had. We reluctantly bade our host good-bye and headed off for Hannibal, in the sweet cool air that finally had arrived with the storm during the night. Not knowing what to expect, we feared that the tributes to Mark Twain, one of our favorite writers, would be tacky and over the top. Not so. Hannibal was definitely worth the four hours we spent there, touring Mark Twain's home and other important locales in the neighborhood. All of the exhibits were done well and respectfully and we came away with the resolve to reread some of the Twain we've read and investigate the few pieces we haven't. That night led us to Quincy. The contrast in innkeepers couldn't have been greater. We rolled into the part of the town that housed the convention center and several tired competing motels. The Days Inn we chose was manned by a recent college grad, maitained by apparently tired maids and in a part of town that catered to business people and therefore pretty well closed up on Sunday. We had a meal in a very dark restaurant that had the appeal of being the only place open. Our food was good, but not worth the price we paid, and we lamented that the desk clerk didn't seem very eager to drive us to the eatery of our choice and wake us with freshly brewed and spiced chai. Ah, well. We left Quincy this morning determined to ride the 80-90 miles to Burlington, IA. We made good time, starting out early enough that the headwind didn't start until after we had finished lunch in Hamilton. We rode along the Mississippi, making decent time even with the wind when we had our second puncture of the trip. We stopped, took the back wheel off this time, patched the tube and reassembled. The tire went flat. We did it all again. The tire went flat. We called the bike shop in Burlington, knowing that we'd need some new tubes. By then it became evident that the tubes we had were defective and were splitting along the inside edge, with splits so long that the patches wouldn't hold. Just as I had my phone out to call the bike shop again to find out if there was someone there we could pay to come the 40 miles and rescue us, a Suburban pulled over. A man about our age jumped out and said, "Do you need help?" We explained what was going on and he said, "I saw your Livestrong shirt (Thanks, Deb!) and knew I had to stop." He and his son both sported wristbands. He explained that he had passed us going the other way to pick up his son from scout camp. When he saw us still there on the way back, he knew something must be wrong. After about 10 minutes of rearranging seats, luggage from scout camp, our luggage and bike, we were bundled into the SUV and on the way to his house to see if we could repair it better with his tools. He lived in Fort Madison, across the river in Iowa and on one of our possible routes to Burlington. He pulled out all his tools, patches, air compressor, etc. but nothing would hold these tubes. "Okay," he said, "That's it. Let's pile in and go to the bike shop." A 40-mile round trip for him. I offered to pay for gas, but he would have none of it. Shuttling us around was a great way to avoid studying for his RN boards which were coming up soon. We arrived at the bike shop in about 15 minutes, purchased our tubes, had the bike together and I reiterated the offer to pay for gas. When he refused again, I said, "At least let us make a donation to your favorite charity. What would that be?" He pointed to his yellow wristband and said, "How about these guys?" So Lance will have some more money to aid in the fight for cancer courtesy of Jeff Engle, good samaritan and surely one of the best RN's Iowa will have. So here we are in Burlington, our goal reached by pedalling only about half of what we needed to and we are once again shaking our heads in awe of how many good people there are. To all our friends who've already done this: Incredible how great people are. To those who haven't: truly, even with all the bad news we hear, when you get deep into the middle of things, humans have it going on! Tomorrow's goal: Galesburg, IL. We'll be making our way across Illinois and joining the Northern Tier AC route in a couple of days. And loving how fun it is to meet people along the way.

Peers to Troy

We reluctantly left the Concord Hill Inn this morning, after a wonderful breakfast of fresh blackberry pancakes, scrambled eggs with pepper and onions and thick-sliced bacon. The house and the company were truly sublime. It's always fun to pepper our trips with a few B & B's, since it's also an opportunity to get to know and talk to interesting people. Maggie, our hostess, did not disappoint and we feel sure her Inn will take off once the phone number issues are squared away. When we left, her friend David was back at work, wrestling the landscaping into submission. After some picture taking, both on our camera and for our hostess's website, we had an experience we haven't had since leaving home. We rolled DOWNHILL! back to the trail. After following the trail for about three more miles, we turned off just before Marthasville to pick up the Adventure Cycling Great Rivers Route and head north toward the Mississippi and Hannibal, Missouri. We'll follow it for another few days, beyond Hannibal and into Illinois and eventually pick up the Northern Tier Route to head east. Turning off the trail is, of course, a mixed bag. It is nice to leave behind the dust and the still air. Being so close to the river and so low meant not a lot of moving air. Rolling along on pavement made us feel quite fast. That feeling lasted until we had another experience that, until now, this trip has been lacking: a killer hill. It was no more than a half-mile, but we really can't remember the last time we went up a hill that steep, especially with the bike loaded. I began to flash back on all our friends' tales of the roller coaster hills of the east, and I prayed that when we reached the top we would stay at the top for a while. Fortunately, that's what did happen. We rolled along scenic farmland and "gated community world" for quite some time. A Gatorade break in Wright City fortified us for the rest of the ride into Troy. We will stay here for the night, only about 40 miles from where we started this morning. The heat and the map are creating three relatively short days for us; there are motels here in Troy, and then not again until Louisiana, MO another 40 miles away. Since today and tomorrow are supposed to be the hottest days yet, we opted to break this section up. We enjoyed a delicious lunch at an Italian restaurant here in what used to be a church. The bar was located where the altar had been! That gave us a chance to cool down and recover, then we headed for the library to do this. We have been amazed all this way at how valuable our iPhones are on a trip like this. Besides keeping us connected to home and the world (which might seem like the opposite of what you do on vacation, except when your vacation lasts three weeks!), they allow us to Google Map each town we come to and find libraries, restaurants, motels, etc. The next time I bump into Steve Jobs, I'm going to give him a big hug.

Incidentally, a P.S to yesterday's entry. Chris, Roger and Rick will especially appreciate this one. Although our friend Bob thinks of bike trails as perfectly safe places, as we rolled down the trail yesterday after the big conversation with all the other cyclists, we noticed something on the trail ahead. It was big; it was dark; it was on four legs and munching grass. A huge cow was blocking half the trail and quite put out that we wanted to pass. I began to flash back on the Great Buffalo Incident of 2006. Fortunately for us, she wasn't quite as ambitious as that buffalo had been. After a bit of skittishness and a little bellowing, we zipped past her and went on our way. Down the trail a bit at the next trailhead, Grumpy Old Man #1 caught up with us. Apparently he works with cattle back home in Indianapolis, so he told us he just sent her on her way. I can't believe I forgot to include this. Encounters with livestock add excitement to any vacation.

Jefferson City to Peers

At the risk of sounding quite repetitive, it is HOT!!! We left Jefferson City this morning about 7:00. It was quite a pleasant ride through more bluffs, caves and shade for most of the morning. We met up with more cyclists today than we've seen the whole time. During a morning snack stop at Mokane we chatted with the grandson and granddaughter of the store owner. We purchased our sandwiches and potato salad out of the deli case, took a seat at a table in the window and were promptly joined by the two. By the end of the conversation we knew everything about them but their names. The boy, going into 4th grade, used his novelty Chinese balls, as an icebreaker. He brought them over and said, "Have you ever seen anything like this? Watch! I strike them together and --- POP!" He went on to explain, "One is flint and one is steel and they can even spark and smoke if I do it right." His sister took up the conversation when he took a breath: "I'm going into second grade and he is going into fourth, but I'm pretty much smarter than he is, especially in math." We were treated to tales of the bullies in school, the firecrackers that exploded in his hand, and in all passed a lively time while we ate. Eventually, Grandpa rounded up his grandson to do some errand, and the little girl was left behind to entertain us on her own. We finished up there and made our way back down to the trail. As we approached the map kiosk, suddenly there were cyclists everywhere. There were a woman and her daughter on a recumbent tandem, accompanied by another woman on a regular upright bike and two couples from Wisconsin, a brother and sister and their respective spouses. As we all chatted, Carolyn from New York, whom we'd met the day before pedaled up and joined the conversation. We exchanged email addresses with her and she suggested that we let her know the next time we plan to visit NY. The couples from Wisconsin had gotten off to a rocky start: they had hired a shuttle to take them from their truck to the trail. As they rode along in the shuttle, they suddenly heard a bang. It turned out that the tire of the one man's bike had been resting against the exhaust pipe of the van, and it melted. So they were delayed while that was fixed. Then, as they started out, he fell and scraped up his leg. He was good-natured enough about it all, and we had a good laugh imagining aloud what his next catastrophe would be. Eventually even the two Grumpy Old Men who had been at our hotel joined us as well. As one of the women from Wisconsin pointed out, "You know, if we were at home we would never go for a bike ride in heat like this." We had a reservation at a bed and breakfast in a little town called Peers. We left the group behind and enjoyed the sights as we made our way. Standing Rock, an anomaly of erosion was a highlight today, as well as some great wildlife: a couple of lazy snakes sunning in the heat, many bluebirds and martins, and the ever-present rabbits. At one point we stopped to drink and stretch in a very quiet spot, and you could actually hear the mighty, muddy Missouri river rushing past. At close to 2,000 miles long, it is an impressive river. The B & B was at the top of a one-mile hill off the trail, but the climb was worth it. It wasn't overly steep and it actually felt good, relief from the saddle soreness of flat riding. Maggie, our hostess, is fabulous. The house is beautiful with a gorgeous wine cellar and beautiful grounds and it was such a welcome respite from the grime of the trail. Maggie's friend David is staying with her and doing some yardwork, so we had a great discussion over dinner. And, they're both Mac people! As the week goes on and the rains of last week become more distant, the trail gets dustier and dustier. Tomorrow we only follow it for about three more miles and then we turn off onto the Great Rivers Route. We will be in Hannibal by Sunday night, and then cross to Illinois. We feel good that our next few days are mapped out, and that they have promised cooler weather by Sunday.

Boonville to Jefferson City

Today was a day for description: first, the temperature was about 10 degrees lower than yesterday when we left this morning at 7:00. We wound our way out of Boonville across the wide Missouri and onto the trail heading eastward. After a few miles of cornfields on both sides, we entered the section of the trail that made us feel most at home; there were cliffs to our left and now and then, a river to our right. Most of today's ride was in the shade.

And the most exciting news of all: The Pointer is Back!!!! We officially rejoined the Lewis and Clark Route, which is what we started on from Astoria, OR way back in 2004. The route is distinguished by historical markers depicting our heroes in profile. One of them, either Meriweather or William, is always showing vigorously pointing the way. Back in Oregon, there was a state park that actually used the image on the men's room with a Sacagawea pointing out the ladies' room. But, I digress.

We were in the first area today which really offered a view of terrain that is unique to this area. High cliffs to our right, which the markers said contained pictographs, but which were covered by vegetation now. To our right alternated views of the Missouri River, which really is quite wide, and flood plain farm fields, or swamp land. It was beautiful and very quiet. It wasn't until the very end of the day that we actually could hear a highway with real traffic.

We continue to be impressed by the trail itself and the amenities. Because it is part of the Missouri State Park system, the funds are there for maintenance and signage. We passed through the trail's only tunnel today, a relatively short one, but memorable. part of it was just blasted out of the rock of the hillside with the rough rock forming the walls of the tunnel. The bridges are smooth with no jolt at either end rejoining the trail, and possibly thanks to the Katy Trail Ride a day ahead of us, storm damage and erosion have been fixed.

Breakfast was in a delightful "general store" and cafe in Rocheport, MO. This woman could give Sam Drucker a run for his money; the menu was very sophisticated. I had a veggie muffaleta and Bob chose a curried chicken sandwich. I was wistful that we couldn't just stay there and come back for dinner, since her wine list and beer options rivaled anything I'd seen anywhere. The contrast for our lunch in Hartsburg was stark. Dotty's Cafe offered a decent selection of sandwiches and hot meals, but the service consisted of a woman literally plopping our dishes down on the table and running away, no eye contact, before we could ask for anything else or inquire about the fries we'd ordered but which hadn't shown up. However, even Dotty's looked good compared to our Gatorade stop in Wilton. We saw signs for a campground with a store, and it was time for a break and something cold to drink. (Cool is a relative term here). The store was like entering a cave, dark and foreboding. We could almost hear the horror movie music in the background. Our first clue was the long-haired, sunglassed, bearded man who sat without moving or speaking until I almost had a heart attack when I noticed him out of the corner of my eye. His wife seemed very nice, but someone had forgotten to tell them the 60s are over. Actually, we speculated later on the possibility that the "natural herbs" that they sold might have included some which aren't completely legal. In any case, we discussed the reason they might not have so much camping business after we left, considering they don't even offer a public restroom. Camping without a restroom is not most people's idea of comfort.

The day ended pleasantly. We decided to take the trail spur into Jefferson City, the capital of Missouri. The Hotel DeVille had been advertised all along the trail, but we had convinced ourselves that is sounded too snooty to be affordable. We were pleasantly surprised, though, when we called to find that it was actually comparable to what we have been paying, and yes they do have a hose outside to wash the trail grit off the bike and yes we can bring the bike in, and they even put it with all the other bikes in a locked conference room next to our room so that we have room to dance around if we wish. We don't wish, just for the record, after riding in the heat. We enjoyd a great meal at a Greek restaurant just next door and even managed to purchase some food to enjoy for breakfast in our room tomorrow. The bonus is that we also have a reservation at a B & B for tomorrow night. Apparently as we head east, accommodations are more at a premium than we have found them so far. Tomorrow night, possibly with the help of our hostess, we will make the decision of whether to head to Hannibal or cut diagonally across Illinois shortening our route. A lot will depend on available accommodations. Stay tuned.

Boonville Update

Dinner at the Casino: great buffet, good ride to and from in the hotel shuttle. Three guys from Michigan who install storm shelters (Auntie Em!) all over the country. We had a great conversation and learned the history of Boonville. Named after Daniel Boone, but they saved money by eliminating the extra "e." Our shuttle bus driver was Patty, a feisty lady who knows the history of the area and has a great personality to boot.

Clinton to Boonville

After yesterday's heat, we decided that an early start was in order, especially as we had a 70+ mile ride today. Planning that, we went to sleep early and woke up at 4:30 a.m. This was perfect, since the restaurant across the road from the motel opened at 5:00. We enjoyed a good breakfast (except for the tepid tea - Bob) and were on the road, or should I say, trail by 6:00 a.m. The Katy Trail officially begins (or ends)about a mile from our motel. We found it easily and were treated to miles of riding without traffic. The first hour or two were very quiet, broken only by the occasional rabbit crossing our path. They seem to be ubiquitous here, having apparently found a climate or terrain in which they can thrive. We tried to take a few pictures but found the camera lens fogging, since low heat and humidity are relative things. It was about 80 degrees at 5:00 a.m. and went up from there. We made our first convenience store stop after about an hour and a half, and then stopped at 9:15 at a little cafe, where we had sandwiches. Since the Katy Trail Ride, which consists of about 300 riders, is a day ahead of us, everyone we've met knows the drill: bring cold drinks first, talk food later. One of the things that has struck us the whole time is how many people we've met from back home. Almost everywhere along the way we've encountered people who either have family in the Pittsburgh area or are originally from there. (We are actually counting the waitress from Sandusky, OH; close enough.) At the cafe today, a woman who was outside buying a newspaper was from Beaver Falls. Inside, a woman at a nearby table said that she and her husband lived in McKeesport for three years. One "problem" we've had is that people are so curious and friendly that we often have trouble actually eating during the conversations. They are fairly used to cyclists coming through, since the Katy Trail has been here for a while. It stretches for 250 miles from St. Charles, near St. Louis, to Clinton. The usual feat is for people to ride the whole trail, much the same as will be happening once the trail is complete from D.C. to Pittsburgh. But when we add that we are continuing to Pennsylvania, that seems impressive. Yesterday we met a westbound TransAm rider, Scott, who was riding from Virginia to the west coast alone. He had veered off the usual route to spend some time with relatives in Missouri. We tried to fill him in on what is ahead, since we just did his next section on our trip last year. It's always fun to scroll through our memory banks and recommend places to stay or to tell someone about a particularly good library we encountered. We have had very good luck with the motel plan; prices have been uniformly reasonable, and we've encountered some really hospitable "innkeepers." Yesterday, the woman who owned the Best Western in Clinton told us about her relative who owns a motel in South Dakota, a huge contrast from their former home in India. She said that his motel only operates about 4 months of the year, and normally he takes his family back to India for an extended visit. Last year, they decided to remain in South Dakota throughout the winter. She and her husband moved to Clinton from Seattle, and while she said she does enjoy the quieter life there, South Dakota in the off-season does not appeal to her any more than it did to us! At the moment, we are in the lobby of a Comfort Inn here in Boonville. Since the motel is in an industrial area, the only "dining" options are Arby's and Wendy's. However, there is a shuttle from the hotel to the Isle of Capri Casino every hour. It goes into town (which is a couple of miles downhill from here, hence the shuttle). We are planning to take the shuttle and either eat at one of the Casino's three restaurants or walk to another place in town. Little did I think we'd ever be visiting a casino on a bike trip. Tomorrow will be a shorter day, about about 62 miles to Jefferson City. Advantanges to the trail: shade!!!, no traffic, no worrying about taking a wrong turn. Disadvantage: trail grit. Our bike got dirty for the first time today. Fortunately, the motel has an outdoor hose and is used to cyclists asking to hose off their bikes before bringing them indoors.

On the Road Again

Alas, the first glitch of the trip is behind us. It turns out that Bo's 1Stop in Pittsburg, KS actually went out of business since we reserved the truck back in April. As problems go, that's a minor one; it turns out we were able to return the truck in Nevada, MO which is where we expected to end our first day of the trip. So at the end, we will be able to say that we crossed the country except for that 45 miles between Pittsburg and Nevada. We dropped the truck on Sunday night, and so far the drive has been the most grueling part. Since we arrived in Nevada by 4:30 or so on Sunday, we decided to pack up and ride the bike the 19 miles back to El Dorado Spring, MO - one of the most optimistically named towns ever. We spent the night there and set out this morning to reach Clinton, MO which we did by noon. IT IS HOT!!! (See photo, above; if it looks like we're about to ride into the center of the sun, we are. -- Bob)

The Katy Trail begins in Clinton, and we will ride it nearly to the other end. We will turn NW and head toward Hannibal, MO along the Mississipi unless we decide to shorten our route overall and cut diagonally across Illinois. Considering that we are ahead of where we thought we'd be by now, however, it's likely we'll take the scenic route.

The heat is unbelievable already. It's been in the high 90's since we passed through St. Louis. We're hoping to get early starts for the next few days to ride before the heat really sets in. And we're consoling ourselves with the thought that Chris, Roger and Rick survived this and they are older than we are! (Sorry, guys.) We had a great lunch today at the Ben Franklin Coffee House in Clinton, where we met Diane and Donna. They are the wives of two men on the Katy Trail Ride, a group of about 300 who will be a day ahead of us on the trail. We are hoping they leave us some Gatorade to buy and some clean sheets to sleep on. So far, the people of Missouri have been friendly and helpful, except for the guy here in Clinton who is convinced that the cyclists passing through are really DEA agents in disguise. We are looking forward to a cool motel room tonight and a good Mexican dinner. Tomorrow's destination is Pilot Grove, about 62 miles from here.

Setting out

We are prepared, mostly packed and eager to get on the road to reach Pittsburg, KS. Our plan is to leave home after dinner to drive to Conneaut Lake where we will spend the night. Tomorrow we pick up the truck we've reserved in Meadville and begin the 1,000 mile drive to the point we left off last year. We expect the drive to take two days, and depending on when we arrive there on Sunday, we'll either turn the truck in then or on Monday morning. Bo, of Bo's Quick Stop, will be surprised to see us, and probably even more surprised when we return the padlock he gave us for free last year. Our first day's ride will be to Nevada, MO, about 45 miles from Pittsburg and a good distance for the first day of a trip. We are not taking camping gear this year, since perusal of the maps shows a motel in virtually every town we stop in and not really many good camping areas. That should help us since the trailer and camping gear weigh about 40 lbs. It is kind of scary to be without the tent and sleeping bags as a safety net, but it will put a different spin on the adventure. So the inaugural voyage for the new Santana begins soon.